


Being Worthy

by lumiereandcogsworth



Series: the next adventure [1]
Category: Beauty and the Beast (2017)
Genre: F/M, Family, Father Figures, Memories, Painting, Young Love, just some soft future father and son-in-law content!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:15:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22733146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lumiereandcogsworth/pseuds/lumiereandcogsworth
Summary: Adam longed for Belle when she was in another room, and theirs was a love still so new. Maurice and his wife’s love had been deep; it had grown, like two trees rooted together, becoming one. And still she was ripped away from him, leaving only her memory behind. Adam was moved by Maurice’s words, by his story; still standing, still smiling and laughing after all this time… Adam had never known grief to be so forgiving.
Relationships: Adam & Maurice (Disney), Adam/Belle (Disney)
Series: the next adventure [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1634650
Comments: 5
Kudos: 29





	Being Worthy

Dinner in the grand hall had long been completed, but many of the guests were still in their seats, the table alive with conversation. Most everyone was captivated with someone else: stories of childhood, high points of recent trips, the latest intrigue of castle gossip. All of the guests were leaning over in some direction, engaged in an array of discussion. All except Adam, it had seemed. He sat at the head of the long table, his hands folded in his lap, eyes amusedly watching his guests make merriment of their dinner. He didn’t mind the lack of conversation, in all truth. He knew he could speak with Belle, who was deep in discussion with the nobleman to her right, later on in the library. Adam watched her, alive in conversation. She was so good at that, he thought. Everyone had been so interested to speak with her since she’d come to the castle and the memories of the crown had come flooding back to the people’s minds. 

It made Adam proud, how comfortable she already was there. Life had been so wonderful since it all changed, since they’d fallen in love. Butterflies filled his stomach when she walked into a room, his heart leapt when she smiled at him. Her very presence had been leaving Adam awestruck. And now he watched her, talking with her hands and making the nobleman laugh. Adam smiled, she looked like she’d been here for years. Adam couldn’t even remember life before Belle; he didn’t want to. Belle was everything he never realized he needed, but all that he loved most in the world. 

“Adam,” Maurice whispered, leaning over and breaking the prince of his trance. Adam looked over to the man, dressed so elegantly in the clothes the prince had gifted him; the smallest of payments from a long list of ways Adam had been trying to apologize for his ruthless behavior toward the old man. It sickened him thinking about it. “Adam, I’d like to show you something, if you wouldn’t mind coming by the workshop when you have a chance?” The workshop was another thing from that long list. The prince had cleared out an entire room for Maurice to paint in. A room with windows that gave good lighting, Belle had pointed out. Maurice had been speechless when they’d revealed it to him. He’d never had such a large room to himself in all his life. Now, not only did he have his own bedroom in the castle, but he had a room just solely for his work; a gift he never thought he’d receive. 

“Oh! Yes, sure, of course,” Adam sputtered. He couldn’t quite be calm around Maurice. He was so scared the man would find some secret truth in Adam, that he’d take Belle far away from him and he’d lose her forever. In all reality, Adam had no reason for these irrational worries. Adam had apologized to Maurice the first day the curse was lifted. They’d shared conversation, discussing horses and art and Paris, since then. Things had been fine, this was all in Adam’s head and he knew that. And yet… “Would you like Belle to come too? Or- ?” 

“No, no, not her yet. Just you for now,” Maurice smiled sweetly, patting the back of Adam’s hand that had come to the surface of the table when the man first startled him. Adam nervously smiled back as Maurice then stood, excusing himself. The prince watched him leave, a knot forming in his stomach. 

Not long after dinner, Belle and Adam had finally found each other in the library, just as they did most evenings. They sat on the couch, leaning on one another as the fire crackled in front of them. 

“Dinner was rather interesting. Where were those nobles from again?” Belle asked, having been so engulfed in her conversations she hadn’t even remembered why they were there. 

“Versailles,” Adam chuckled, his arm wrapped around her shoulders. 

“Versailles! Yes, that’s right. I had a lovely conversation with many of them. One man said he’d spent all of last year in India. India! Can you imagine all the things he saw? I didn’t want him to stop talking, it all sounds so fascinating.” 

“Hm, perhaps we should venture there ourselves,” Adam suggested, stroking her hair. 

Belle hummed, her dreams ever-expanding. “We certainly should,” she said through a smile. “Well,” Belle adjusted herself closer against Adam. “It seemed like everyone had a good time tonight. Do you think the dinner accomplished what we needed it to?” Adam beamed when she said  _ we _ . He wanted this all to be hers, to be  _ theirs _ , and it made him so happy that she already felt it was. 

“I think it did! Alexandre, their leader,” Adam gestured air quotes, “seemed pleased. I think they were all so bewildered to have forgotten everything. I suppose there’s no simple way to explain a curse, hm?” 

“No,” Belle laughed, “I don’t really think there is. But I think we did our best!” She leaned off of his shoulder, smiling up at him. Adam looked down at her, there she went again, flashing that smile and making him feel lightheaded. He leaned down and kissed her. Belle smiled when they pulled away, loving him and knowing how easily she could stay in his arms forever. She then reached her arm over him, fishing in his waistcoat pocket for his pocket watch. “Ah, I was going to meet Plumette this evening,” Belle said after reading the time and putting his pocket watch back, leaning away from him and sitting up.

“...But you’ve decided to stay here with me and ignore everyone else…?” Adam teased, sliding his hand down from her shoulders to the small of her back. Belle laughed, looking back at him and leaning in like she was going to kiss him.

“Mmm, no, I’m going to uphold my plans with my friend and go have tea with Plumette,” Belle grinned, pecking his cheek and rising off of the sofa. 

“Oh, how cruel of you,” Adam pouted playfully, slouching back, his hands falling together in his lap.

“I think you’ll be alright, love,” she chuckled, picking up her book and putting it back on the shelf by the fireplace. 

“Maybe,” Adam sighed, slowly getting up. “It’s just as well, I suppose. Your father asked me to meet him in his workshop this evening.” 

“Oh? What for?” Belle asked, meeting him in front of the still glowing fire. 

“I’m not entirely sure, and it’s apparently just for me. I asked if you were to come along as well and he said not yet…” 

“Ooh, mysterious. That’s exciting though, isn’t it?” Belle replied optimistically.

“Yes,  _ exciting _ . Or maybe he’s going to tell me to stop seeing you because he secretly has some legitimate vendetta toward me!” Adam threw his hands up, partly sarcastic, partly gravely concerned. Belle laughed, patting his arm as it fell back to his sides. 

“No, no, stop that. You know he adores you,” Belle reassured, thinking fondly of all the little chats the two had shared over meals. “Besides, I think that workshop alone has convinced him of your loyalty.” 

“Maybe so,” Adam muttered, crossing his arms on his chest and feeling slightly better, though his mind still raced with what Maurice could possibly want with him in his workshop at this hour. Maybe he was going to kill him? Adam didn’t really think Maurice was the type, but if there’s one thing Adam’s worried mind could do, it was wander. 

“At any rate, I’ve got tea with Plumette and now you’ve got a secret conversation with my father. I shall see you later, then?” Belle leaned forward, putting a hand on his shoulder to balance herself as she reached up to kiss him. 

“Yes, see you later,” Adam replied after they kissed. She smiled at him and left the room, Adam watched her leave, he just could never seem to get enough of her. 

When Adam finally reached the door to Maurice’s workshop, his heart was pounding. He took in a deep breath and finally knocked on the door. At first there was nothing, but then a sudden “come in! Come in!” muffled through the door made everything real. 

“Hello, Maurice,” Adam said as the strong smell of paint wafted in his face. The room was disorganized; brushes, canvases, paint, and scraps of paper sprawled everywhere. It was a room for an artist, surely. 

“Adam! Yes, hello! Now, come around here,” the old man beckoned him from across the room, suddenly appearing behind a large canvas on the floor leaning against a shelf. “I wanted you to be the first to see it,” Maurice said just as Adam came to his side, the prince’s eyes shifting to the canvas in front of them. Adam’s eyes widened, his jaw nearly dropped. In the moonlight from the window and the candlelight from the table, one could see an immaculate painting of Belle in the dress she wore on the day of the celebration ball, just a few days after the curse had been lifted. She looked pristine, she looked gorgeous. 

“Oh my, it’s… It’s beautiful. Absolutely stunning, Maurice, really,” Adam said, stumbling over his words, not knowing if he was talking about the style of the painting or the woman within it. 

“Good, good,” the artist mumbled, tapping the handle end of a paint brush against his cheek. “I’m quite glad you think so!” He clapped a hand on Adam’s shoulder, causing him to jump. “Her dress was a good challenge, all the flowing patterns and such, you know. Lovely colors, too,” Maurice carried on, speaking of all the technicalities of painting a portrait. Adam was entranced by the painting, Belle’s beautiful brown eyes looking back at him, her kind expression giving him a wave of peace. She was the absolute picture of grace and elegance, it sent shivers down Adam’s spine. 

“It is quite a dress… She wears it well,” Adam whispered, not entirely sure if Maurice had finished talking. 

“Oh I quite agree! I’m happy with how this one turned out. I don’t always like my portraits, you know. But I think this one will do nicely…” The artist looked on at it fondly. 

“Oh, yes I think so too,” Adam agreed. “Why didn’t you want Belle to see it?” He asked, wondering why anyone would hold back from showing off such a masterpiece. 

“Ah, she will! I just have a second gift particularly for you, Adam. And if I know Belle,” the man walked around the canvas to a drawer of an old desk that was covered with sketches. “She’d be too embarrassed by all this gawking at her image.” He grinned, retrieving what he needed and hiding it in his jacket until he reached Adam. “Here you are,” he finished, handing him a square locket that seemed the size of Adam’s hand. The prince looked up at Maurice curiously before clicking it open, revealing two small portraits of Belle; one of her in that same dress, and one closer of just her face. They were every bit as beautiful as the larger portrait, Adam was once again speechless.

“Wow… this, this is lovely…” he gazed upon the small portraits in his hand. He was amazed at Maurice’s attention to detail, his ability to paint on such small canvases. 

“Yes, I just thought perhaps you’d like your own personal portraits. You know, to have in your pocket, or your study, or what have you. And I do know that Belle’s far too humble to give you a gift like that,” Maurice grinned, gesturing with the dry paint brush that seemed to be a part of his hand now.

Adam chuckled, “You’re probably right, there. Thank you, Maurice, truly. They’re absolutely beautiful.” He looked down at the portraits again, tracing the images gently with his thumb, feeling the uneven texture of the paint. They were silent for a moment, Adam entranced, Maurice almost in a solemn contentment. 

“She’s looking more like her mother every day,” Maurice said rather abruptly. Adam looked up, bemused. Belle had always told him that she could barely get anything about her mother out of Maurice. “I was amazed,” the man continued in a daze. “As I was painting her features, just how similar they’ve become. I couldn’t believe it. She’s always been like her, you know, but it’s different- seeing her. Ah,” the old man waved his hand, as if waving off the memory, the sadness of it all. He turned and sat down in the chair belonging to the messy desk. “I wish she had known her.” He finished, a bit dejected. 

Adam’s heart sank. He knew all too well the weight of carrying the memory of a loved one. He silently pulled a chair to face Maurice and sat across from him, still cradling the locket in his hands. “I think she does too,” he responded gently. 

“Oh, I know she does. When she was little she’d ask so many questions about her. It broke my heart, truthfully.” They were quiet again for a beat; Adam imagining Belle as a small, curious girl, desperate to unlock the mysteries of her mother, and Maurice remembering the pain of wanting to share his burden, but knowing he could never place it on his dear child.

“When we first learned we were expecting Belle,” Maurice began, “all I could think about was how wonderful a mother she’d make.  _ I  _ was always the one scared of being a parent, never her.” His face cracked into a small smile, memories of playful teasing and gentle reassurance flashing before him. “It’s funny, the way life turns out, isn’t it?” Adam nodded, giving Maurice a sad smile. “Were your parents excited for your arrival? I imagine expecting a prince is quite thrilling,” Maurice added, a hint of wonderment in his eyes, his attempt at lightening the mood. 

Adam looked away. Maurice, of course, didn’t mean to ask about his parents. He wouldn’t have if he had known Adam, but this relationship was a new one, and Adam had to remember that. Adam couldn’t have expected Belle to inform him of all the lonely heartache he went through growing up, Belle hardly knew it all herself. So, the prince decided to speak freely. If Maurice was brave enough to do it, surely he could be too. 

“I can’t say for sure how they felt, though I doubt my father was anything more than indifferent. From the day I was born, I was nothing more than an heir to him.” Adam wondered if his words pierced the air as much as the memories pierced his heart. “My mother, though…” the prince’s eyes wandered to the floor, he couldn’t bear to look at Maurice when he spoke of her, as though this somehow better preserved her memory. “I like to think she enjoyed being a mother, the brief time that she was.” His words sank into Maurice like a stone in water. The old man hadn’t known much about Adam’s upbringing, just that he was a prince and he’d lost his mother when he was young. He could so clearly hear the sorrow in the prince’s voice, the tragic loss he obviously still felt for her.

“I’m sure she’d be very proud of you now.” Maurice said, a fatherly warmth in his voice that Adam had seldom heard in his youth. He looked up, meeting Maurice’s kind eyes and giving the slightest smile. 

“I hope she is,” Adam replied, a whisper that spoke volumes. He hadn’t thought of her that way; in a present, watching over him kind of way, in a long time. He had grown too ashamed of himself. He hadn’t wanted her to see him, to know how far he’d fallen. But maybe now… maybe now she was proud of him. 

Maurice nodded to him. After they had left Paris, Maurice would always imagine Belle’s mother watching over them, smiling upon them, keeping Belle out of trouble when she’d go on her little adventures. It’s what kept him going, most of the time. “It was hard, you know, moving to Villeneuve,” Maurice began, attempting to take the spotlight away from Adam’s sorrow. “We had to leave behind everything: belongings, friends… her… There were so many days when Belle was still so young, I just didn’t know what to do with myself.” 

“I can’t begin to imagine what that was like…” Adam responded sympathetically. He longed for Belle when she was in another room, and theirs was a love still so new. Maurice and his wife’s love had been deep; it had grown, like two trees rooted together, becoming one. And still she was ripped away from him, leaving only her memory behind. Adam was moved by Maurice’s words, by his story; still standing, still smiling and laughing after all this time… Adam had never known grief to be so forgiving. “But, if I may say, I think you did an amazing job, raising Belle. She’s just the most incredible person I’ve ever met.” Maurice could see his eyes were genuine when he said this, his voice sincere. He smiled at Adam, almost admiringly, as though he was waiting for the young man to say something like this to him. 

“You really love her, don’t you?” Maurice grinned, Adam blushed. Of course he did, but professing that to her father? It wasn’t something he’d expected to be doing this evening. 

“I do, yes. More than I’ve ever loved anybody.” He hadn’t meant to add that second bit, but his words were true, coming right from his heart- a part of him that until very recently had been seemingly locked up forever. 

“Mm, I can tell,” Maurice said, wagging his finger at him knowingly. “It’s that look in your eyes, even when she’s not around. She has it too, that constant love just, just alive inside of you,” he gestured explosively with his hands when he said this, finishing with a chuckle. He was a funny old man, Adam thought, but he’d never met another with a more genuine heart. “I remember it well, that love.” Maurice finished, leaning back and folding his hands in his lap. Adam smiled, looking down and blushing again, a pure expression across his face. “You want to marry her?” The old man asked, far too nonchalant for the prince across from him. Adam’s heart started pounding again. Marry her? Have her by his side and in his life for the rest of time? It’s all he’d been dreaming of. And now her father was asking that very question, a question that should be easy to answer, it  _ is _ easy to answer, but to her father? The man Adam wanted nothing more than to prove his worth to? To show that despite everything, somehow he was worthy of Belle?  _ Maurice’s Belle? _

It was too much, Adam’s words started fumbling over each other again. “I, um, well! Yes. Yes, I do. I mean, I- I would! I’d, certainly I’d- I’d like to. If… If you would-” Thankfully, Maurice cut him off, laughing and leaning forward again. 

“My, my, it’s alright, Adam. I’m certainly not going to disapprove.” Adam’s face went blank. He looked at Maurice with such a hopefulness. 

“Truly?” 

“Yes, yes,” Maurice replied, still chuckling at Adam’s lack of grace. “I know you and I did not begin on the brightest of terms, Adam, but you’ve proven yourself to me on more than one account. I know you make Belle happy and she, you. I know your heart’s in the right place.” Adam’s heart, in fact, was pounding like a marching drum once more. He couldn’t believe the words he was hearing. All this time, all this worry about what Maurice thought of him, all to discover he thinks he’s good enough for Belle. It’s more than he could’ve asked for. 

“I… I don’t know what to say,” Adam mumbled, still so overwhelmed. 

“You don’t have to say a thing!” Maurice affirmed. “Just know, Adam, that you do have my blessing. Whenever the two of you are ready for your next adventure,” he winked, a proud smile on his face. 

“Thank you, Maurice. Truly I…” He stood, rather abruptly, but full of passion. He placed the locket he’d been cradling on the desk. Maurice followed suit, setting his paintbrush down and standing in front of Adam, curious how he’d proceed. “I promise, I will not let you down,” Adam said, reaching out his hand to shake Maurice’s. It was the only way he knew to show the utmost honor between men. A gentleman’s handshake carried with it all the honor and respect it could. Maurice, however, knew another way. The old man smiled down at Adam’s hand, then quickly looked up to his face. He could see it all there: how much Adam loved Belle, how desperately Adam wanted to do right by both Belle and her father. Maurice put an arm around the man’s shoulder and pulled him closer to hug him. Adam reacted quickly, nearly freezing but having time to take his hand out from between them. He was still at first as Maurice’s arms wrapped around him, feeling something he’d never known: a father’s love. 

“I know you won’t, son,” Maurice whispered, his chin bobbing against Adam’s shoulder. Adam’s heart practically flew into the air. His eyes squeezed shut and his arms reciprocated, wrapping around Maurice. When his father died, he had written off all chances at ever knowing this kind of compassion. But now, perhaps all hope was not lost. 

The pair pulled apart, both having the slightest bit of tears in their eyes, both clearing their throats and pretending it was nothing; though they both knew it was everything. They stood in silence, Adam retrieving the locket from the desk and glancing over it. His eyes then turned back to the large portrait of Belle, facing toward the window and away from them both. 

“So, is she ready to be put up for all eyes to see?” 

“Yes,” Maurice replied, following Adam’s gaze to the painting. “Yes, I believe she is. Where will it go?” 

“There’s a hall filled with portraits, on the other side of the castle? It could be added to that collection,” he smiled, beaming with pride at the thought of Belle’s grandeur hanging among the generations of royal portraits. 

“Goodness! I had no idea. But then, I’m sure there are many a room I have yet to visit in this place,” Maurice chuckled. 

“Oh, yes, I’m sure! This place is rather vast if you’re not used to it.” Adam took a sidestep toward the door but still engaged with Maurice. “Of course, if you need anyone to, to show you around… Lumiere, or Cogsworth… or me, even! Anyone here would be happy to help.” He said, trying to sound as hospitable as one could when attempting to make a large, labyrinth of a castle feel like a small cottage. 

“That’s quite appreciated, thank you, Adam,” Maurice replied.

“Of course! Thank you… for, for everything.” Adam stopped, his back close to the door. He held up the locket as he spoke, hoping Maurice would understand his meaning. He was so completely, utterly, entirely thankful for Maurice; and he hoped the old artist knew that. Maurice smiled in response, nodding to him. Adam smiled back, putting a hand on the door knob. “Have a good night, Maurice.” 

“You as well, Adam.” They shared one last smile, and then Adam was gone, butterflies filling his entire body, clutching the image of the most perfect woman in the world in his hands. He just wanted to see her, to wrap his arms around her and to tell her how much he loved her. He was going to marry her, and he couldn’t wait to see her again. 


End file.
